


What's a little lost pride between two old men?

by PineappleandBlueberries1967



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Scene, Apologies, Bonding, Fluff, Forgiveness, emotional honesty, for me mainly, ford actually thanks stan, i want to see them Bond, post not what he seems, wish fufillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24327769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineappleandBlueberries1967/pseuds/PineappleandBlueberries1967
Summary: Instead of asking Ford to thank him, Stan takes the harder road and decides to apologise first.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40





	What's a little lost pride between two old men?

**Author's Note:**

> Whenever I get to that mirror scene in Tale Of Two Stans I always get annoyed at how stubborn Both of them are in admitting their faults, sure, it makes for a more satisfying conclusion later, but my God I just want them to get Along

In one of the many, winding, wooden hallways of the cabin, stood a dusted mirror. It stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and wide enough to cover at least a door-frame and a half. The bronze framing that surrounded it was artistically painted, although it looked as if the colour had been sprayed on haphazardly, with small splotches of yellow paint decorating the outskirts of the mirror. From the light of the window, he could see the fingerprints that smudged into the glass, hand prints ranging from large to small, and there was a single large crack that ran from the bottom to the right hand corner. It was clearly olden arm worn from many years of standing still, but Ford didn't recognise the mirror. He barely even recognised the figures that stood there. It just served of another dissonance, a harsh reminder that he wasn't in his own time. Yes, he'd witnessed the progression of time throughout his adventures through the multi-verse - from the subtle way his bones began to ache and his lungs began to shrivel- to the obvious greying of his hair and wrinkles on his skin. However, there was something... Different, about seeing himself in this light. Seeing himself in a mirror, that while not belonging to him, stood in his home. Illuminated by sunlight from his planet and directed through his window. Though he'd noticed his slow progression in ageing, he'd never gotten the time to stop and look, always moving onto the next dimension, never looking back. He'd long since given up hope of returning to his own dimension. It seemed he should've kept it. Perhaps it wasn't looking at his own reflection that made him realise the passage of time, perhaps it was looking at the figure standing next to him. Even as they aged, the similarities between them remained. The last time he'd seen his brother had been under the pale blue glow of the portal as it collapsed around him. Needless to say, things had changed since then. Neither of them were how the other remembered. The years had clearly taken their toll on Stanley, from the slight hunch in his posture to the permanent marks that lined his form. He wore suits now apparently- something the older Stanley would never willingly wear. He even wore his glasses, something the younger Stanley was too prideful to admit he needed. He could hardly see any of the confident, young Stanley he'd known any-more, washed away through years of secrets and pain. He wondered how else Stanley had changed. What had time done to them?

30 years. 30 long years of his life, wasting away in the middle of a no-where town. 30 years of hiding his identity, of lying and secrets. 30 years poring over books, gathering scrap metal and deciphering codes. All of it, every sacrifice he'd made, was for this very moment. So that he could stand side by side with his brother once more. He didn't know how to feel. The bright hope that'd been sparking through him ever since he'd gotten that dumb portal to activate had been squashed and flattened the second that Ford had come back. He wasn't greatful, he wasn't happy, he was still resentful. Apparently, 30 years trapped in a rift hadn't done anything for his stubbornness. He wanted to feel angry or upset. After all, he'd basically wasted 30 years of his life trying to get Ford back, and he hadn't even thanked him. Like he didn't care. Mostly, he wanted to fall back on his own stubbornness. If Ford wasn't going to be civil, then he didn't have to be either. He could be petty, he could be cruel, he could be the stubborn old man that everyone saw him as. But... Over the course of the summer, his eyes had been opened to more than it had than his entire life. The kids had awakened some small part of him, one that asked him to look past his anger for a brief moment to think about how Ford was feeling during all this. He didn't like the idea of empathising with his ungrateful brother, but he couldn't help it. Was it ridiculous to still be so hung up on a stupid mistake he'd made nearly 40 years ago? Yes. But if he chose to be resentful to Ford, wasn't he falling into the same trap? Did he really want to cling onto this hurt and anger when there was a chance to do better? Before the summer, he wouldn't have even considered it. For a brief second he cursed the young twins who'd brought out this side of him, and then he did something he didn't often do. He decided to put his pride on the line.

"Hey Ford?" He asked as he dusted off his fez, eyes trailing to his brother's reflection rather than the actual figure, as if it'd make this any easier. Although, his brother did the same, simply looking over through the mirror. Stan looked down at the red fez in his hands, gripping it just slightly too hard.   
"I've had a lot of time to think in the past 30 years you know? Trying to get that portal back up and running literally forced me to stay in one spot rather than run away from my issues." He started, mouth tugging into an uneasy grimace. That got Ford's attention, and he looked over for real, staring at Stan instead of his reflection. His throat threatened to dry up and his mouth threaten to clamp down, but he pushed through it and continued.  
"I didn't bring you back to lord it over you, or to prove myself as more than a failure, although it's definitely a nice bonus." He joked, a wavering smile briefly flashing on his face. He couldn't look away from his dumb Fez, suddenly enthralled by all the loose stitching and tassels that clung to it.  
"I brought you back because..." He cleared his throat and finally tore his eyes away from his Fez, turning slightly towards his brother. Not even his current streak of honestly could force him to look into his brother's eyes unfortunately.  
"... Because, at the end of the day, I care about you. You'll always be my family." After saying that, it was like a weight lifted off his chest, and he was finally able to meet Ford's eyes. He didn't understand what complex thoughts could be going through his head, too out of practice to read the subtle tells Ford was giving.   
"Stanley-" He began slowly, his voice an unsure wobble.  
"Just.. Just gimmie a sec ok? I'm almost done." Stan requested. He placed his Fez onto the mantle in front of the mirror, his hands instantly itching for something to hold onto.  
"I just..." Stan sighed and looked down at the floor, taking in the detailed red carpet, fraying from age and covered in various stains.  
"I've made a lot of mistakes. I know that, and I can never take them back. All I can do is try to move on." He ran a hand through his hair, a small smile on his face as he thought about the kids. If they were here now, they'd be so proud of him. That thought kept him grounded, kept him willing to continue.   
"So I know that it's not worth much, and I'm not expecting anything for this but..." Stan reluctantly lifted his eyes from the floor and turned back to his brother. He outstretched his arm, looking up with the most remorseful face he could muster. It would be so easy to back out, to push him away right now and remain bitter for the rest of his life, but he'd already gotten this far.  
"I'm sorry. For everything." He finished. He stood strong, though his legs felt like they'd collapse from under him, and his heart raced in his chest. He desperately hoped Ford couldn't see the faint tremor in his hand. 

Ford stood still, back straight in a position that was too straight- tense. His hands were clutched by his sides, face unreadable as the light from the sun hid his eyes underneath the glasses. Slowly, purposely, he shook his head. Stan tried not to let the disappointment crash over him or the anger fester underneath his skin once more as he dropped his hand. He didn't say anything, no matter how much he wanted to say some cutting remark, or to argue and yell until his voice gave up on him. But he'd made his choice, and so had Ford. He'd tried, and that's what mattered. Maybe Ford wasn't ready, or maybe he would truly never forgive Stan. It hurt, badly, but it was ok. He still had the kids, and he still had a family, even if Ford didn't want to be a part of it any-more. Stan turned to walk away, not sure where he could go. His room was in the other direction, but he really didn't want to walk past Ford. He'd just leave the Shack for a while, maybe go into town. He only managed to walk a step forward before he felt a hand on his back. Stan winced and turned back around. Of course, things would never be easy. He didn't see anger on Ford's face, he didn't see any of the resentment that he'd seen down in the basement, or the faraway look in his eyes. It wasn't much, Stan could still see the layers of hurt feeling simmering behind the surface, but Ford was smiling. It was a small smile, an uneasy smile, an unnatural smile, but it was a genuine smile. A hopeful smile. He held up a hand, a gesture so familiar that it was burned into Stan's memory. The disappointment clinging to his heart slowly melted away, and a feeling similar to hope slowly replaced it, small as it may be.  
"High -Six?" Ford asked, voice dripping with an emotion he couldn't place. Stan tentatively smiled and reached out letting his hand meet his brothers with a satisfying slap. The simple movement brought a wave of nostalgia to the surface, and his small smile blossomed into a wide grin, pinpricks of tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He turned so that his brother couldn't see, he wasn't that willing to be open yet.  
"I'll go make up the spare room for you, try not to break anything while I'm gone alright?" Trying to sound as normal as he could. It didn't come across as well as he would've liked, far too much emotion behind the sentence. He began to walk away, only to once again be stopped by Ford- this time by him calling his name.  
"Stanley?" Stan turned around, rolling his eyes slightly as if their incredibly meaningful moment hadn't happened.  
"Yeah sixer?" He replied, crossing his arms. Ford held out his red Fez, that Stan had left on the counter. He reached out slowly to take it, eyes meeting with Ford as if to ask 'Was that it?'  
"Though it was extremely reckless, you saved me. You brought me back. It took a lot of dedication. And for that... I thank you." Ford said, pushing up his glasses slightly as he fidgeted slightly. Stan took the Fez and placed it back onto his head.  
"Yeah, whatever, it's not a big deal." He shrugged it off, even though it was absolutely a big deal. Both of them knew it, but it was better this way. Small steps and all. Stan turned to leave, and this time, Ford didn't stop him.

Ford stared into the dusty mirror one final time, smoothing out the various wrinkles as a minor distraction from his racing thoughts. He turned his head in the direction his brother had gone, and then back to where he stood now. Time had clearly changed the both of them... But maybe that wasn't as bad as he thought. He was back where he belonged now, and he was determined to make sure the world would be safe. Only now, he had more goals. Along with fixing any danger the portal could've caused, he wanted- perhaps even more so- to fix the relationship between him and Stanley.

**Author's Note:**

> Look at the twins, being a good influence on Stan, how Dare They smh


End file.
